AN: Here's this. :-)
The problem, as Kurt sees it, is this: there is simply too much going on.
He wants to lay here in his bed and think things through, because it's dark and silent and he's obviously not going to fall asleep any time soon so it's the perfect time for it. Except all he thinks about as he tries to think about things is there is too much.
When he starts thinking to himself that Dave loves him and he needs to figure out what to do about that, he can't even settle in to the idea. Because Blaine says the Dave loves him, and Mercedes thinks so, and Kurt's pretty sure his dad sees whatever the two of them are seeing.
But there is so much going on between Kurt and Dave, so much that Blaine and Mercedes and even Kurt's dad don't realize. Kurt has never had a relationship with anyone like the one he has right now with Dave. If he were seeing it from the outside, he might misinterpret things too.
He truly, sincerely likes Dave. That's a certainty, there's no doubt there. Dave is funny and smart and shy, and profane and rough around the edges, and Kurt really likes him.
He doesn't doubt that Dave likes Kurt too – in fact, it's funny to think about, but Kurt feels like he's someone kind of special in Dave's eyes. Dave came into his life different than most people, and maybe that's got something to do with it. Kurt's friends know him as his fabulous snobby self. Dave, maybe because he isn't used to Kurt's kind of fabulous, has always looked for the guy underneath it. The dude. The teenage boy, the person under the stylish exterior.
Dave sees him as a guy first, so he calls Kurt a dude and doesn't temper his rough language, and throws him a hideous flannel shirt because, whatever, Kurt's a dude, he should wear it.
Dave isn't shocked when Kurt puts that shirt on. He isn't amazed when Kurt swears, or makes some crude joke, or otherwise relaxes that fabulous exterior of his. And because Dave isn't shocked by it, Kurt is more comfortable doing it.
Kurt has always been a stereotype. He accepts that about himself. He is prissy, he does wave his arms and roll his eyes and put way more inflection into his voice than the average teenage boy. He does judge people and wear hundred-dollar socks and listen to musicals and dream of Broadway.
He's a cliché. He knows it, and since that's who he really is he doesn't mind it. He's at least a cliché that's rare in Lima, Ohio. He might fit into a specific type, but he's different from the people around him. He doesn't mind that most people, most of even his best friends, look at him and see the cliché and expect nothing else.
Dave doesn't do that. Dave has never been comfortable with that cliché, and maybe that's why he's so quick to see beyond it.
Kurt has said things to Dave and done things with Dave, casual nothing things, that Dave doesn't even blink at, and that none of Kurt's other friends would accept without a comment. He's more relaxed with Dave, because he doesn't have to fear a reaction is he slips a bit. Because Dave likes the peeks of dude that come through when Kurt lets them. Kurt knows who he is and he accepts himself and he likes himself, but with Dave he seems to actually learn more about himself than he ever knew.
Kurt likes Kurt more when he's with Dave.
If Mercedes and Blaine don't even realize that much, about one side of Kurt that gets affected by Dave, then how can they possibly understand the deeper things?
How can they begin to realize how much exists between Kurt and Dave now that can't be called 'friendship' but doesn't automatically mean 'love' either?
Kurt is Dave's caretaker, his bodyguard, his night nurse, his gay mentor. His friend. Kurt doesn't feel about Dave the way he feels about anyone else, but who's to say what it is he does feel?
Dave relies on Kurt. He likes Kurt, yeah, and he needs Kurt for help, for advice, for sleep. Dave feels like he still owes Kurt for a couple of months of thrown elbows in the hallways, he's guilty about the person he used to be. There can't be anyone else in his life that he has that many overcomplicated and sometimes-conflicting feelings about.
Mercedes and Blaine don't know Dave. They don't even like Dave. Blaine says that Dave's feelings are obvious, blatant, but how would Blaine know the first thing about interpreting Dave's reactions?
The problem as Kurt sees it, staring out at the darkness from his bed, is that he can't possibly start thinking about what to do about something if he can't even allow that the something is even true.
There's too much between he and Dave, and if Kurt lets himself jump into reacting to something this big if it's not even true, he threatens to destroy all of it. Coming so soon after another giant mistake that almost chased Dave away for good, Kurt isn't willing to risk it.
But he can't ignore it, either. Blaine doesn't know Dave well: that doesn't mean he's right but it doesn't automatically mean he's wrong, either.
And that's something Kurt can't dismiss. What if he's right?
Kurt thinks and worries and goes back and forth. He thinks until he hits the unavoidable brick wall of not being certain what it is Dave feels, and then he backtracks and starts again until he bounces off the same wall.
Sometime around three in the morning he starts to accept that he isn't going to get any sleep. He's restless, oddly nervous. It feels like the night before a performance, like the churn of stage fright or something. Part of it – a big part – is this constant circular thinking about Dave and Blaine's theory about him, but there's more to it.
In a few hours he's going to school with Dave.
There are plans in motion, of course, and the entire Glee club (guest-starring Azimio Adams) is going to be right out front to meet them, Bully Whip jackets in place. They'll walk walk him from class to class if they have to, they'll step between Dave and anyone or anything that threatens to disturb his return.
But Kurt is worried all the same.
After school is an appointment with the therapist his dad settled on for Dave. Dave's got his truck now but Kurt refuses to let him go alone. Not the first time, not after the last doctor. Luckily Dave didn't argue with that, because Kurt's pretty sure he could have gotten his dad to agree with him and demand it, and that's not something he wants to pull right now.
Between worries about love that he isn't sure is even there, and school and its thousand possible disasters, and a doctor who could potentially permanently destroy Dave's last shreds of willingness to get help...
Well. No wonder he can't sleep.
Later, he'll wonder if some of his insomnia was caused by instinct, by this unconscious realization that if Kurt is worried about tomorrow, Dave must be petrified.
Because being awake at three in the morning means that when he starts hearing noises from the room across the hall, he's out of bed and at Dave's door faster than he might have been otherwise.
Nightmares have become common by now. It's awful to realize that, but it's true. He has developed a reflex for how to handle them. Usually it's Dave in the bathroom that wakes him up.
Tonight it's something different.
He's making noises – hoarse and loud and incoherent, and Kurt can hear him from behind his closed bedroom door but it gets louder as he goes into the hall and stands at Dave's door.
Nightmare, but different. Kurt wakes up at the end of these dreams, not during. Kurt is there to deal with the aftereffects, not the nightmare itself.
He doesn't hesitate for more than a moment, though. He knocks as a courtesy more than anything else, pushing Dave's door open at the same time.
"Dave?" He can't see anything in the dark bedroom, so he reaches back out the door and slaps the hallway light on, and in the carve of light from the hallway the bedroom comes into focus.
Dave is asleep. Trapped. He's still under the covers, but his expression is drawn tight and these sounds escape him. Not words, nothing intelligible, but choked and hoarse and panicked sounds.
Kurt moves to the bed fast. He hesitates, because he hasn't been in quite this position before, but Dave is trapped and Kurt isn't going to let that go on.
He leans in and touches Dave's arm, firm. "Dave?"
Dave flinches in his sleep, head twitching to the side. His arm jerks under Kurt's hand, tugging free of the covers and away from Kurt's touch.
"Dave?" Kurt raises his voice, gripping his arm again instantly. "Dave, wake up!"
Dave tries to escape the touch again, and he's strong even in sleep but Kurt is determined. His fingers close around Dave's wrist and he holds on.
"Dave, please. It's okay, wake up, it's a dream. Dave?"
Dave's murmurs only grow louder, shouts of hoarse noise that sound like there are half-formed words trapped inside. He jerks, and jerks again, and suddenly his eyes are open and the words shape clearly.
"Stop! Stop, stop," he cries out even as his eyes find Kurt. He flinches instantly away from him, jerking his arm free of Kurt's grip with a painful jolt.
Kurt winces, jerking both hands away from Dave. "It's okay," he says, the words falling from him instinctively. "It's a dream. It was just-"
"Stop," Dave cries as if he can't hear him, as if he's looking at Kurt but still seeing his dream. "Leave me alone!"
He's awake now, he must be, his eyes are open and focused. But Kurt can tell he's still lost in his dream, and he leans in closer though he doesn't try to touch him again.
"Dave, please. It's okay. It's just me."
"Get out!" Dave's eyes are focused, and it looks disconcertingly like he's actually talking to Kurt instead of the pictures in his head. "Get out, get out get the fuck out!"
Kurt shakes his head, throat going dry even as he reaches out with uncertain fingers. "It's me," he says again. "Dave, it's okay, it's just-"
"God, Kurt, get out! Get out of-"
There are footsteps behind Kurt, and a shadow across the bed, and Dave jerks back and Kurt snaps his head around.
It takes a bullhorn to wake his dad up once he's asleep, but suddenly he's right there. The light is on in Dave's room and his dad is grabbing at Kurt's arm and pulling as if Kurt is the problem here.
"What are you doing?" his dad snaps out, face creased from sleep but his eyes are wide awake. He looks past Kurt at the bed. "Dave?"
"Get him out, get him out." Dave is curled in on himself now, hands over his face, shaking hard. "God, please, get him the fuck out of here."
Kurt shakes his head, stunned when he realizes...it isn't the dream. Dave isn't seeing his nightmare images. He's seeing Kurt standing here, and he's...
No. No, this isn't how it goes. Dave has a nightmare and Kurt helps, that's how it goes. It's been the only help Kurt has really felt able to give him, for so long now.
Kurt turns wide eyes to his dad, backing up on stumbling feet. "Dad..."
His dad doesn't waste time. He grabs Kurt's arm and steers him to the door, grim. "Go on, Kurt."
"But-" Kurt's feet lock into place when he hears a sound from the bed that he knows, knows too well.
Dave is sobbing, fighting against it but sobbing into his hands. Kurt doesn't walk away when Dave needs him. Out of all the uncertainties of his life that is one thing he knows as absolute fact.
When he tries to move past his dad, though, he is all but shoved to the door and out into the hall.
"Kurt! Go!"
He opens his mouth to argue, but his dad shuts the door hard between them.
Kurt's mouth shuts, and he backs up a step. He can hear Dave through the door, hoarse, pained sounds. He can hear his dad's voice, and it's wrong. It should be Kurt. Kurt's voice, Kurt in that bedroom.
"Kurt?"
He jumps, looking over at the open door at the end of the hall, unable to meet Carole's worried gaze for more than a second.
He turns and stumbles to his own room, closing the door. He finds his bed, though he's all but blind in the sudden darkness, and he drops on the mattress. He grips at the sheets on either side of him, staring out into the black and trying to make sense out of what just happened.
This isn't new. The nightmares, the terror, the sobs. None of it is new, except that Kurt got to Dave a little bit sooner in the process than usual. Is that it, that Kurt woke him from it instead of finding him already awake? Or is it...
...something else.
He wipes his face in the dark with unsteady hands, the realization of what else has changed in the last few days making him feel sick to his stomach.
It was too easy. The kitchen table, his dad's steady words, Dave's understanding. Their laughter, their lame jokes.
Too easy. Kurt knew it while it was happening, knew it as he lay here in bed unable to sleep. But now, as he sits here on his bed in the darkness, he consciously realizes why it was too easy, and it hits him like a sledgehammer.
He betrayed Dave. Even though Dave understands why, and that it wasn't meant to be malicious, it's still a betrayal. Something between them is cracked, or broken. Something has changed.
Dave doesn't trust him anymore.
Kurt's little epiphany about taking responsibility and owning up to his mistakes and his own shortcomings...it came too late. The damage is done.
He can't help Dave anymore. Not when it matters, not in the middle of the night when his dreams are terrorizing him and Dave needs some kind of reassurance.
Kurt has betrayed him, so Kurt can't do it anymore.
He sits there for a long time, stunned into immobility, before there's a soft knock on his door.
Light from the hallway makes him squint as the door opens.
His dad looks in at him with a frown. He moves into the room, leaving the door cracked enough to be able to see.
Kurt can't look at him. He bends his head and stares down at his hands as his dad sits down beside him.
He speaks, and it hurts, but he has to know if he's right and his dad will tell him. "He doesn't trust me anymore."
His dad hesitates. "He says you were there. In his dream. I think it made him react pretty badly. I don't know if it means anything more than that."
Kurt frowns at that. He thinks back to earlier talks, to Dave apologizing for the kiss in the locker room and admitting that he sees himself hurting Kurt in his dreams. He wants to jump on that, to think that maybe he hasn't hurt thing so deeply between he and Dave. But it feels too easy.
He swallows, staring at his hands as they fist on his lap. "If he was hurting me...like he said he dreamed about, then...then why would he...?"
His dad is silent.
Kurt looks over at him and sees the hesitation in his dad's eyes. The reluctance to answer.
He blinks, and sucks in a breath. He turns to face his dad. "He wasn't hurting me."
His dad frowns. "Kurt, it was a dream either way."
"He wasn't hurting me," Kurt says again, now that he knows he's right. "I...I was hurting him. Wasn't I?"
"It was a dream, Kurt. If you read too much into it you aren't doing you or Dave any favors."
Kurt can only sit there, stunned, lost for a way to react to that, as his dad sits with him and says a few more halting words about dreams and what they mean and don't mean. He can only sit there and watch his hands shaking as his dad sighs and pats his leg and tells him to get some sleep, that there's work to do, maybe, but he's sure they'll work it out.
He's sure they'll be okay.
Kurt doesn't watch him go, doesn't look up even when the door is shut and he can't actually see his hands through the darkness.
He doesn't bother saying that his dad being so sure that things will work out means that at least one of them isn't terrified that it's already too late.
He knocks on Dave's door earlier than usual. He doesn't expect an answer when he calls to Dave, tells him good morning, but he can't help feeling that much lower when no answer comes.
He says something to Dave's door, something inane about taking his shower earlier so Dave can get ready. It's nothing, he doesn't remember the words a moment after he says them, but he does remember the silence that follows.
He stares at the wall in the shower and goes through his morning routines without a shred of thought, and all he can think about is that silence.
He goes downstairs and sits on the couch, ready to go, backpack beside him.
When he realizes that Dave isn't coming down, he's already feeling so miserable that he can't bring himself to react much. He just pulls out his phone and texts Santana.
We're not coming. Tell everybody to go to class.
He turns off his phone and leaves his book bag on the couch as he climbs up the stairs feeling like he weighs about a thousand pounds. He glances over at Dave's closed door but trudges to his own bedroom.
He drops onto his bed fully clothed, hoping to at least get a little of the sleep he didn't get a moment of last night.
Kurt wonders if his dad picked this place, this doctor, because it's about as far from the first one as possible.
The office is inside a strip mall right off the highway. There's a Starbucks, a sub shop. A second-hand book store that Kurt never knew existed in his town, and a door in the middle of everything with the wide windows blacked out and a little name plate over the door.
Dave stands at that door for a moment. He glances over at Kurt.
They're silent – they've been silent all damned day – but Kurt gives a small, encouraging nod.
Dave lets out a breath and pulls the door open.
Kurt moves in behind him and the door shuts out the bright daylight outside, and he looks around warily.
There's no desk in the small front room. No receptionist, nothing but a row of plain black armchairs and a table with some magazines. There's quiet music playing, almost the same tuneless, coma-inducing melody the last place was piping in. But the walls are a lovely rose color, things are quiet and calm and he isn't instantly on edge the way he was at the last place.
Which doesn't mean he's anything like relaxed, of course.
There's a door in the back, and on the wall over the door a small green light is burning.
Dave goes over to the wall and sits, looking lost without a form to fill out or someone telling him what to do.
Kurt sits beside him.
"If it's anything like the last place," he says into the strained silence, "walk out. We'll go home."
Dave nods.
They wait.
The door in the back opens after a few minutes (Kurt checks his watch and grudgingly decides not to grumble when he realizes that it's still five minutes before the appointment). A woman comes out. "David?"
Dave stands up.
Kurt studies the woman, tense, worrying about letting Dave go back into any office with any doctor. She's Indian – the name on the plate outside gave that away, and Kurt won't embarrass himself by even trying to sound that name out – and younger than he expected. There are lines around her eyes but her hair is dark and full and pulled back in an artful and conservative way.
She's actually kind of lovely, though he notes that with suspicion instead of appreciation. Her eyes are so dark they look black, her skin is dusky and lined and she smiles at Dave the way Carole smiles at any of her boys.
She approaches them – Kurt notes her simple, stylish pencil skirt with reluctant approval – and stretches out her hand to Dave. "I've heard quite a lot about you, Dave," she says with a smile.
He reaches out hesitantly, glancing back at Kurt for a confused moment. "You have?"
She smiles and follows his gaze to Kurt. "You must be Kurt?"
Kurt hesitates, but pushes to his feet and shakes her hand. "Hi."
"Please, come back to the office."
Kurt blinks. "Me?"
"Both of you. Please. At least for the first few minutes."
Kurt and Dave share another look, but at least they're confused and unsure together, instead of being unsure and apart the way they have been all day.
Her office isn't much different than the lobby outside. The same ducky rose walls, simple black furniture. A narrow desk, a wall of books, diplomas on the wall. It's not much different than Kurt might have expected from a therapist's office, and he almost comes close to relaxing a little even while he wonders why she wants him inside.
She motions at a couple of armchairs, and takes a seat at a third chair against the wall, away from her desk. "I'd like to tell you both a little bit about myself and what I'd like to do here, and we can go from there. Alright?"
She's got an accent, faint and musical, and she meets their eyes and waits for their reactions before going on. Kurt knows that this is about Dave, and he has no idea how Dave is feeling right now, but his own instinct is to let down his guard and give the woman a chance.
She waits for Dave's nod before going on. She smiles at them both, soft and calm. "To get this out of the way, my full name is Madhuri Cheemalavagupalli. Most of my patients call me Doctor Maddie. If they are fond of irony they shorten it to Doctor Mad."
Kurt smiles. He glances over at Dave.
Dave watches her, still wary as ever.
"Your father," she says with a smile at Kurt, "spoke to me at great length about the two of you. I have also spoken to your doctor at Lima General, Dave, as well as Doctor Sampson."
They both tense at the name of that first doctor, the psychiatrist.
She watches them both as she talks, and Kurt has no doubt that she's made a mental note of their reactions. "Before we get further into that – and I would like, Dave, if you would tell me in your own words why you've come – I'd like to talk to you, Kurt."
Kurt blinks. "What about me?"
"When your father told me Dave's story, he couldn't go very long at a time without mentioning you. He was telling me about Dave's situation, but it's clear to me that his story links with yours in a rather inextricable way. If you decide that you are comfortable seeing me, Dave, and we plan a schedule of visits, I will insist that Kurt join you for at least some of those visits. Frankly, Kurt, I wouldn't mind scheduling you to come see me on your own every once in a while. If you would be open to that, of course."
Kurt hesitates. He wasn't prepared to meet the woman at all, much less talk about setting up some kind of session with her.
"Probably a good idea, Kurt."
He turns instantly, facing Dave.
Dave glances over and smiles, awkward. "Just saying."
Kurt returns the smile faintly. He looks back at the doctor and nods. "Yeah. We can do that."
"Good." She looks at the two of them for a moment, and her smile is soft and her voice is musical, but her eyes are sharp. Kurt has a feeling she's seeing more than either of them realize.
"I must say," she says after a moment, "the way your father spoke about the two of you, I wasn't expecting this tension between you. I suspect it's more than apprehension about seeing another doctor."
Kurt's smile vanishes. He looks away from her.
"It's been a rough couple of days," Dave says finally, a rumble in his voice.
She waits, and when neither of them keep going: "There's no set structure to these sessions, not even this first one. The most important thing when you're here is to address the things that are affecting you most. Is this something you feel like it's important to talk about?"
Kurt sneaks a glance over at Dave.
Dave frowns out at her. He looks over at Kurt.
Kurt doesn't answer, and he won't. He'll come see the doctor if she wants, if Dave thinks it's a good idea, because he probably ought to. But in the end this isn't really about him.
Dave looks back at Doctor Maddie. "Does talking about this shit to a stranger ever actually help anything?"
She smiles. "You'd be surprised. It isn't a cure-all, of course, but talking in general can help a great deal more than most people suspect. It often surprises my new patients to tell me very basic, very important things and then realize that they have never actually spoken those things aloud before."
Dave lets out a breath.
She nods at him, encouraging. "It's important to you to work this out, then, this rough couple of days."
"Yeah. Of course." He doesn't look at Kurt. "It fucking sucks being on..." He stops. "Uh. Is it okay to...uh..."
She laughs softly. "I don't expect you to temper your words around me, Dave."
"Okay. Then, yeah, this fucking sucks." He glances at Kurt and away again fast. "Kurt's...he's like the one person who's been here through all of this, and I fucking hate when things are bad like this."
She looks over at Kurt.
He hesitates, still uncertain about taking up Dave's time with his own feelings. "I think I'm starting to do him more harm than good. I don't know how to make that better."
Dave's eyes jerk back to him, surprised.
Kurt looks over. "I keep screwing things up. Just when things feel like they're okay, I mess it up."
"Give me a break, Fancy. You did one thing that pissed me off, and I already told you that I get why you did it."
"So why am I hurting you in your dreams?"
"Because my dreams are fucked up. But it's better than me hurting you, which I seem to remember you telling me doesn't mean shit because the stuff I did in my dreams I never did in real life."
"That's not the point." Kurt frowns, but they've been silent all day and he hasn't had a chance to ask Dave about any of this, and even if he didn't plan to talk now he can't stop himself. "The point is that you hurt me in your dreams because you felt guilty about what actually happened once. So if I'm hurting you now that means something too. It means I've hurt you once and maybe you think I'll do it again, or..."
"Kurt." Dave frowns. "It's not the first time I've had that dream."
Kurt's mouth slams shut. He can all but feel the color leak from his face.
"It's just the first time I opened my eyes and you were still there, still holding onto me." Dave looks away, frowning, and his eyes catch on the doctor. "Dreams don't have to mean anything, right?"
"They don't have to," she agrees. "Dreams come from a subconscious part of a person's mind that operates both asleep and awake. It's important to consider a dream in the light of day, when your conscious mind is working as well." She regards Dave. "What do you think the dreams mean?"
"I dunno." Dave sits back, frowning. "I think I get nervous sometimes, because...I don't know, because I feel like I need Kurt too much, and he's got all this control now and...we used to hate each other, so what if he starts hating me again?" He shrugs. "I know he's not gonna attack me in some way, that part's retarded. But he could hurt me almost as bad as those assholes did."
Kurt draws in a shallow breath. "I already have. Hurt you. Maybe not as badly as..." He stops, shakes his head. "I want to do everything right. I want to help you."
"I'm not gonna freak out if you're not perfect, Kurt. I ask too fucking much from you already." Dave smiles suddenly, small and wry. "I always fucking ask too much from you. I should know better by now."
Kurt blinks at that, turning in the wide armchair to face him.
Dave glances over at the silent doctor, and back at Kurt. "You know how I keep stalling talking to you about that creepy shit I pulled on you after the locker room, after I kissed you like that?"
Kurt nods.
"I think you're gonna take it wrong, that's half of why I don't want to speak up about it. Because most of it was me thinking some completely dumb shit and blaming you for all of it. But..." He frowns, scratching a hand through his hair in a strange nervous gesture. "But some of it was you, too."
"So tell me."
Dave shakes his head, but he turns suddenly to Doctor Maddie. "Fuck this, I'll tell you. I don't know what Kurt's dad told you about me before all this shit happened, but...I've been in a fucking closet most of my life, and last year I thought it would be just fucking awesome to take everything out on Kurt."
She sits back, nodding. "Why Kurt?"
"Because. You ask him about closets and he'll talk about clothes. I don't care whether he told people he was gay or not, he has never fucking spent a single minute in a closet. And it pissed me off." Dave shrugs. "And, whatever, I was pretty generally screwed up back then. I was ready to blow and he was the most obvious target."
Kurt isn't sure what his dad told the doctor about their relationship before Dave was attacked, but his dad doesn't know a lot of it. Still, the doctor is able to put things together eerily quickly.
"And then you kissed him."
Dave laughs. "Typical, right? Homophobic bully is actually a closet-case. He chased me down. I smacked him or pushed him or whatever I was always doing and he came after me. Followed me into the locker room and..." He shakes his head. "He was like one of those fucking chihuahuas chicks carry around in their purses. He comes in barking at me like some tiny little mutt, all pissed off, blasting me for being one of those straight guys who hates gay guys because he thinks they all want to get in his pants. And half of it was me being pissed at his smug outrage and wanting to show him he was so fucking wrong. And most of it was because for just one second I wanted someone in the world to actually see me when they looked at me."
The doctor nods. "I have counseled gay men and women before, and if your story isn't typical than the emotions behind it are."
Dave seems to relax a little at that, as if he had been waiting for her to be shocked at his being gay.
Kurt realizes suddenly that even though everyone knows about Dave now, he still hasn't actually told many people at all.
"Well. It's the dumbest fucking thing I have ever done, and it only made everything worse. Not for a fucking second did it actually..." He hesitates. "No, that's not true." He glances at Kurt, then back at the doctor. "There was a second. Like one second, after I grabbed him and kissed him and pulled back. One second when I thought...you know, that was okay. I kissed a guy and it was okay, it wasn't strange, wasn't wrong. It wasn't anything like a real kiss, I knew that. It was wrong, doing it like that. But it felt okay. For a second I thought...I can do it. I can kiss a guy and the world won't end. Everything would maybe even be okay." He flashes a hard smile. "Shit, I tried to do it again. But Kurt shoved me away, and I saw how fucking scared he looked, and..."
Kurt speaks up, fast, and he shouldn't but he hates it when this comes up. He hates to know that Dave compares himself to rapists because of that moment.
He speaks firmly, staring out at the doctor so that she understands perfectly what he's saying. "He saw that I looked scared, and he ran out of there. He could have done anything he wanted, and he left."
The doctor looks over at him. "It's important to you that I know that."
"You and Dave both, because he never seems to get it. Because he still think he has anything in common with the kind of person who would...because he doesn't get it!" He turns to Dave, heated. "Rape is about forcing someone who doesn't want you. The first time you kissed me you weren't thinking about what either of us wanted. You told me yourself, it wasn't a come-on. It had nothing to do with sex. You weren't thinking about whether I wanted it or not. And when you saw that I didn't, you ran. Because you aren't the kind of person who would force someone against their will."
Dave meets his eyes. He swallows, and nods, and looks back at the doctor. "Okay. So I'm still dealing with that. I get what he's saying, and I don't...I know I'm not some rapist. But sometimes it's hard to separate..." He trails off, heaving a breath. "Anyway, that's not even the fucking point. The point is what came after that."
Kurt sits back, pressing his mouth shut tightly to keep from going on. At least Dave seems further along about the difference between a kiss and what happened to Dave. He's still not where Kurt wants him to be about the whole thing, but he's closer.
"What came after that?" Doctor Maddie asks.
Dave laughs, hollow. "Nothing."
Kurt looks over at him.
The doctor regards him silently.
Dave draws in a breath. He twists in his chair suddenly, facing Kurt. "Okay, look...you don't get it. I told you about how I used to think that being gay meant being some campy, girly queer like the ones on tv, right? I had this fear from the moment I realized I liked guys, that the moment I accepted that I would turn into one of those guys. Every fucking day I lived with that. I knew what I was but I fought it ever fucking second. I was terrified that everything I did would give me away - I couldn't get dressed in the morning without being scared I'd wear something too gay. The day I got my letterman jacket sophomore year was the best fucking moment of the whole year, because suddenly I was spared that one battle every morning.
"But that was just one thing. Do you have any clue what it's like to...Jesus, Kurt, every time I spoke I had to be careful how I sounded, and what I said. Every time I moved I had to watch out, had to be careful not to wave my hands too much, give myself away. By last year I was terrified to make a fucking move without looking around at the other guys, the ones I was supposed to be like. Coach would ask a question and I'd have to do a fucking scan of the room to see what everyone else said before I knew how to answer. Every time someone called something 'gay' I'd turn into a fucking nervous wreck. And I play football in high school, that word was fucking everywhere."
He's right, and Kurt's smart enough to realize it. Kurt wasn't always out, wasn't always open about liking boys. But he has always been him. He has never lived in fear of every word or gesture.
He chose it once, chose to try to play it straight. It's not the same thing at all, because people looked at him like he was nuts and he expected that. But it was still ridiculously hard to keep in mind every moment that he couldn't say what he'd normally say, or move how he normally would.
Dave isn't hiding some campy arm-waving stereotype, but the fear that he was would be enough to make his life hell.
Dave frowns, studying Kurt. "By last year I was so fucking exhausted living that way. I thought...that day in the locker room, I thought that was me snapping. But it wasn't, because I took off out of there and Z was hanging out in the parking lot, and I was right back to watching every word and every move I made, like nothing had happened."
Kurt swallows and nods. He doesn't understand and he won't pretend to, but he can get close enough to understanding.
"Wasn't until I got home that I realized. Even if I wasn't done hiding...I was, because I had just given myself away. I just kissed a guy, and not just a guy. The big-mouthed gossipy gay kid from glee club. The kid who fucking hated me, who would probably love nothing more than to bury me."
Kurt draws in a breath suddenly, getting the first inkling of what it is that Dave's getting at.
"I knew the glee club had to know. Before I even got home, I was sure you at least texted your giggly little gal friends, and fucking Finn probably heard all about it. It was out. I knew it. The next day I puked twice before I even got to school. Z came up to me in the hall that morning and I knew he knew. He knew and he was gonna beat the shit out of me for being a queer. But nothing happened."
Kurt's head is shaking, but he stops it when he realizes. When he thinks about the time after that kiss, and he for the first time thinks about it from Dave's perspective...
"All day, nothing fucking happened. I was wired to fucking blow, and every time I passed one of the glee geeks I knew they were giggling about me, gossiping. I knew they knew, but no one said anything. No one did anything. You told them, I knew it. You had to have told them, because you despise me and there's no reason not to tell them. But nothing fucking happened. At least until after fifth period."
"Oh, god." Kurt drops his eyes.
"Before I could even think about relaxing for even a second, suddenly there you were in the middle of the school, between classes, with everyone fucking around us. And not just you, but you and a total fucking stranger. Some douchebag in a uniform. Then I knew I was right. You were telling people. And not just telling them, inviting them to school and bringing them right up to me so they could see the asshole closet-case for themselves. And yeah, Blaine made some kind of speech about how he could help and I wasn't alone, but come on."
Kurt nods. "I know. I know how stupid it was."
"I took off from there and knew it wasn't over yet. That night Z texts me about some shit he heard at school, and I was halfway through a conversation before I realized he was talking about fucking Puck and some shit he pulled over at the mall."
Dave looks over at the doctor, pausing for a minute uncertainly. She just nods at him, slight and encouraging.
He sighs and turns back to Kurt. "It took me a week of days just like that, being fucking terrified every time one of the gleeks passed me, every time I went to practice, every time I saw you in the halls. And every day that nothing happened was just one day worse, because the longer it took the bigger that shit was going to be. I knew it." He shakes his head, meeting Kurt's eyes.
He isn't hiding himself now. There's nothing guarded in his face, and Kurt wants to gasp at the strain in his eyes. The memory of those days.
"It was the worst week of my life, Kurt. Well, until recently. But it was, it was fucking horrible. Every minute of every day I was terrified. And when I couldn't take it anymore I came to you, and for the first time since that fucking kiss you mentioned that you weren't going to actually tell anyone." He laughs, sick. "You bet your ass that I was pissed off. I was making myself sick, and you were so fucking casual about it. 'I know it's hard, whatever, I won't tell anyone'. So fucking calm. And I fucking hated you."
Kurt nods. It hurts to hear, but it's nothing he didn't know. He saw the hate in Dave's eyes, it's the thing that scared him most.
He just didn't realize before now that the hate only showed up a week after that kiss. He avoided Dave, yeah, because how the hell was he supposed to react to what happened? But he didn't understand what that avoidance must have felt like for Dave.
Dave looks across at him suddenly and smiles. "So...that was half of it."
"Half?" Kurt's voice is weak. He sucks in a breath and holds it. "God, what else is there?"
Dave shrugs. "The me being a dumbass part. The part where I was expecting too much and blaming you for it."
Kurt leans in, terrified but taking this on. Responsibility, and penance.
"Don't laugh, but...when I wasn't hating you for telling everyone about me, since I was sure you were, I was waiting for you to..." He smirks. "To help me."
Kurt shakes his head, uncertain.
"I mean, you knew. You were gay, you went through your own shit, and you knew about me. I thought...you're probably a good person, better than me at least. You know there's a kid walking around going through this huge thing, surely you'd do something. Instead you bring me your fucking boyfriend, play 'look at the closet-case' with him, and when his little line about me not being alone didn't make me sob rainbows and fall into some gay-pride group hug, you were fucking done with me."
He holds up a hand before Kurt can react. "Don't say it, because I know it's bullshit. I don't justify threatening you and pulling the shit that I pulled. I know I'm the fucking bad guy in the story, and you're the hero, and trying to blame you for not solving my problems for me is such a crock of shit I can't believe I'm admitting it." He draws in a breath, and it's watery and unsteady. "I terrorized you, but I never stopped thinking that one day you'd hunt me down, corner me somewhere private and actually fucking talk to me about it...at least, I thought it might happen until the day I got expelled."
Kurt shuts his eyes, unable to respond.
"I earned it. I know that. But...I was still fucking stunned by it. And I knew that day, finally, that you weren't going to help."
"Oh my God," Kurt says, the words startling out of him before he can stop them. "You said...that's the day you..." He has to cover his mouth, hide a choke of air, a sob. "That bottle of pills."
"Yeah." Dave doesn't stall or deny it. "And you were a part of that. My dad was a big part, and the fact that I just went through those few weeks of hell only for everything to go back to how it was before...that was most of it."
"I'm sorry." Kurt pushes out of his chair and goes to Dave. He grabs his hand and pulls him up, and he buries his face in Dave's shirt and hugs him so tightly it's hard to breathe. "I'm sorry, god, I'm so sorry."
"Wasn't your fault," Dave says, gripping Kurt just as tightly. "I know that. Believe me, I know it. I brought everything on myself, and I hated you for not being a better person than any fucking body in the world would be. It's not your fault that you were scared. And it's not your fault that you're still human now, and sometimes you do something that's not perfect."
Kurt shakes his head. "I'm sorry."
Dave laughs softly against Kurt's hair. "If there's anything to be sorry for...then I accept your apology."
Kurt pulls back to look at him.
Dave's got tears in his eyes, but his smile is gentle and small and real. "I forgive you."
Kurt laughs, and it does help. He pushes back against Dave and holds on to him, and he's broad and warm and solid and not pushing Kurt away.
He's done a lot of stupid things in regards to Dave. Some of them are justified, some aren't. Some of it he can let go of thanks to Dave's forgiveness. Some of it is going to take a lot more work.
But Dave forgives him, and he's willing to hug Kurt back and stay in his home and allow him to play his nursemaid role. Dave is nice enough to even be grateful for it, for Kurt.
Today has been awful. From the nightmare last night to the crushing disappointment of the morning, to the long, silent day at home that Kurt's dad didn't even blame him for later. All the way up to the silent, tense drive to this office, because even if Kurt's dad will support his skipping school after a night like that, he's still holding firm to the therapy.
Even if this has brought up more issues than it's resolved, he feels like he's got Dave back after losing him at Breadstix on Saturday.
"Holy shit," Dave says after a minute, "this talking crap really does help, I guess."
Kurt grins and pulls back and wipes his eyes so he can look at Dave clearly. "That's one of the two important lessons I'm taking away from this."
"Yeah?" Dave meets his eyes, smiles. "What's the other one?"
"Never again to take Blaine's advice about anything. Ever."
Dave laughs, low and hoarse. "Good lesson."
Doctor Maddie schedules appointments for them – two for Dave the next week, and one for Kurt. She tells them, smiling and gentle, that she might not book them together all that often, since they seem to do fine without her input. Kurt's only half-sure she's joking.
He does know that he'll tell his dad when he gets home that he feels okay sending Dave to her. And that in itself is such a huge relief that it makes the entire day worth it.
On the drive home they make a shawarma run, and Samir isn't there but a few other members of the owner's apparently enormous and thoroughly beautiful family is, and they all recognize Dave and meet Kurt like a long-lost brother.
When they drive home Kurt reaches out and takes Dave's hand, and he holds it all the way home. Dave smiles and slips their fingers together and keeps on talking about all the gossip he knows about Samir thanks to that family.
Kurt can't bring himself to worry about whether he's sending a mixed message, whether Dave loves him, whether he's reading something into it that Kurt doesn't mean. He doesn't even worry about what it is he does mean.
He just knows that he really wants to hold Dave's hand, and he's going to for as long as Dave lets him.
tbc